


Drunk Doesn't Count - Kate's Chapter

by Orlando_Furioso



Series: Hawkfic [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: F/M, In Vino Veritas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orlando_Furioso/pseuds/Orlando_Furioso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is where a summary is supposed to go, but screw that.  That’s what tags are for.</p>
<p>I should apologize for all of the self-loathing, but you got to write what you know.  I should also apologize for overuse of the In Vino Veritas trope, but it’s a trope for a reason and I don’t really feel all that bad about it.  So you get no apologies.  </p>
<p>Except for the lack of a summary.  </p>
<p>Sorry about that.</p>
<p>And overuse of the word said.  Sorry.  And slipping between past and present tense.  Sorry.  And occasional grammatical errors.  Sorry.</p>
<p>So you get 4 apologies.  </p>
<p>But no more!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Doesn't Count - Kate's Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of the second part to my Hawkfic series. For good or ill, there's still a lot more coming. Which means more dialogue-heavy chapters like this one are in the works.
> 
> If you get through it all, I’d appreciate a comment or a contact (especially if I used “you’re” or “your” or “their” or “they’re” in a grammatically incorrect manner. Bring on the Grammar Gestapo).

>>>\--------------------->

The age difference is what?  10 years, maybe 15 years max?  He **_isn’t_** old enough to be her father, but she **_is_** old enough to make a decision about who she wants to have a relationship with.

But today…today she smells a little like bubblegum in a way that makes him feel a little bit like a lecherous old man.

And if he constantly has to remind himself that it’s not a big deal, then maybe it’s kind of a big deal.

“You look…uncomfortable Clint.  Something on your mind?”

“Nah, just thought we were going to a different kind of restaurant.  Why’d you pick a place uptown?”

“I guess I never get tired of seeing you out of your element, Barton.  Maybe I should take you to a club with me sometime.”

“I’m not sure I should be your first choice as chaperone.”

“No shit.”  Kate snorted and almost did a spit take with her iced tea.  Clint couldn’t remember if it was ‘Long Island’ or not.

“Watch your language there, salty-dog.  They’ll throw us right outta your classy little joint.”

“They can try,” Kate smiled slyly. “No, I mean we should go to the club together.”

“You mean like a date?”

“Uh…no…not a date…for fun.  No, I mean, like as friends.  For fun.  Friends can go to a club together.  For fun.  I go with the guys from the Young Avengers or people from school sometimes, you know, f-”

“For fun.  Yeah, I got it.  Well, as much fun as I have hanging out with you, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to spend hang out with Drunk-Kate.  Or Drunk-Kate’s drunk friends.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you got drunk too.”

 “Sorry.  No can do Katie-Bird.  Avengers gig comes with a ‘Morality Clause.’  Can’t get drunk and wild, at least not in public.  I do and I lose the job.”

“Wait, so you have to try and be a stuck-up, role model like Captain America all of the time?”

“I used to be able to do things as Clint Barton and still be Hawkeye, but, you know, my secret identity ain’t what it used to be.  So yeah, I gotta be an upstanding citizen pretty much all of the time or the job goes to somebody else.”

“What about Iron-Man?  I thought Stark was drunk like 24-7?”

“Ah c’mon, you should know by now that rules don’t apply to rich people, Ms. Bishop.  It’s not the same when you’re a genius/billionaire/playboy/philanthropist.  It’s different when you’re a founding member and the team’s playing with your money and your tech.”

“You have money now.  Maybe you should try to form your own team again.”

“That what you did?”

“No, I just shelled out all the big bucks so my friends and I could keep hanging out.” 

“Aw, you shouldn’t have to pay people to be your friends, girly-girl.”

“Ha ha, manly-man,” Kate replied dryly.  “Maybe it’s the only way I could be on the team.”

“I hear ya.  Regular folks like us gotta force their way onto the team any way they can.  Then you gotta toe the line or you’re out.”

“Sorry, Boss.  That kind of sucks.”

“Nah…it’s all right,” Clint said letting the thought linger a bit before adding, “Small price to pay considering.”

“Although, maybe I _should_ get you drunk.  Take some compromising photos of you.  Then, while you’re benched, you can take a vacation and I can take your spot.”

 “Sounds pretty dastardly to me.  Maybe the Masters of Evil could use a Hawkeye.”

“Well, maybe one of us should look in to that before your brother beats us out of a job.”

“I’ll stick with our side.  I like our team better.”  Clint says as he reaches out and places his hand on top of Kate’s across the table.

“Me too,” Kate says her face just starting to blush, “So you’re sure you don’t want to hit the clubs with me.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I’ll stick to my beer back at the apartment.”

>>>\--------------------->

Later that night, Clint is woken up by the sound of someone loudly banging on the door of his apartment.  Or rather he’s woken up by Lucky, who was woken up by someone loudly banging on the door of his apartment.  Kate’s drunk and saying things she’ll most likely regret later.

“Open the door Barton.  I know you’re in there and I know you wanna sleep with me.  I’m dead sexy.  What are you waiting for, hunh?  Let’s do this.”

When Clint opens the door Kate flings herself into him, wraps her arms around him, and plants a kiss dead center on his lips.  Her lips are loving and forceful and warm and glossy.  The act takes him by surprise as much as the scene he’s woken up to in general and he stumbles backward slightly before righting them both and removing her lips and arms from him.

“Katie?  What are you doing?  Why didn’t you just let yourself in?”

“I left my keys in my purse in my car at the club where you were supposed to be with me and who knows what kind of tramp you got up in here all hours of the day and night don’t change the subject because I know you want to sleep with me.”  She rambled attempting to look shrewd while digging her pointed index finger into the middle of Clint’s chest.  Her eyes were glassy and she smelled like little cartoon waves of vodka should be wafting from her in all directions.

“I think you do wanna sleep with me.  Matter of fact, I know you do.  Not because you’re ‘Clint Barton, God’s Gift to Women’ and you gotta prove it alla time by sleeping with e’rybody.  But because the thought of sleeping with me even crossed your mind and that means you were thinking about me in that way.”

“Katie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  **_You_** don’t even know what you’re talking about.  How much have you been drinking?”

“Pssh…you know what I’m talkin’ bout, Willis,” Kate sprayed.  “You wanna sleep with me and I wanna sleep with you.  But you think I’m this perfect, precious, China Doll thing and that you’ll break me or mess me up.  But I got news for you buddy.  I’m not even from China,” Kate slurred, “I’m damaged goods.  I’ve got just as many flaws and bad stuff as you or anybody else.”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” Clint, ever the knight, still defends his perfect Katie even if he’s got to do it to herself.

“I got jumped in the park once.  Betcha didn’t know that didja?”  Kate says loosely up near Clint’s face.

“Yeah, Katie I was there, remember?”

Kate bolts backward immediately, shocked and horrified.  Away from Clint’s face and away from Clint entirely.  The sheer abruptness forces her to stagger backward a step into the kitchen counter.  Her face freezes instantly and there’s a terror in her eyes as she tries to force Clint’s face into her nightmare.

“I attacked you and Eli in the park as a test. To see if you were as good as I’d heard.”

Kate’s horrorstruck face unfreezes and her confusion passes. “Not the ninja you big stupid ass!  There was anoth-ulp,” Kate’s sudden shock was being quickly replaced by nausea and she spins toward the sink.  The sudden, tumultuous, emotional swirling had adversely affected the swirling contents of her alcohol-ladened stomach.

As confused – as completely lost way out in the tall grass – as Clint was, here he found an opportunity to actually help.  While Kate heaved, Clint held her hair back and gently and slowly rubbed her back.  When her legs got weak he moved her to the bathroom where she sat on the cool tile and held onto the toilet until she passed out.

>>>\--------------------->

Clint decides to take her back to her own place.  A plan he’s decided on before he realizes that he’s never been there before.  And that he’s never been invited.  Fortunately he finds her address in her wallet, in her purse, in her crappy VW beetle.  She’s got a penthouse (!) across town.  When he gets to the door (on the 28th floor!), Katie in tow passed out and sleeping soundly in his arms, he recalls her saying something about her YA teammates staying with her.  Thankfully he decides to knock before using her keys because Hulkling (Teddy Altman) opens the door looking as imposing as Thor and in his underwear and tank top.

“Um, this is Kate’s place innit?”

The kid’s a weird mixture of embarrassed, drunk, awestruck, and just-woke-up stupor which leads to Wiccan (Billy Kaplan) coming out in similar attire to see what’s up.

“Oh my God.  Hawkeye Sr. is in our apartment.  I gotta post this later,” Billy gushes.

“What are you doing here?” Teddy asks.

“Trying to figure out what happened tonight and if any of it was actually legal.”

“Kate said she was upset about something and needed a night out so we went to the club.  We all left together and came back here but then she went back out,” Billy explained.

“And you let her do all this while she was drunk?”

“She was fine.  She drove **_us_** home,” Teddy defended.

“She’d only had a little at the club.  Mostly she was grind-um-dancing with some tall blonde guy,” Billy offered.

“She had some more to drink here and then said she was going back out,” Teddy stated.

“And you just let her leave like that?”

“Well, see the two of us were on the couch…uh…ow.”  Teddy disclosed until Billy’s elbow to the ribs stopped him.

“We had a little more too and we were indisposed Mr. Hawkeye, sir.  We thought she was taking a cab and even if she didn’t she’s, well, you know,” Billy attempted to clarify.

“No tell me.  What do I know?”

“She’s Kate-motherfucking-Bishop!” Speed (Tommy Shepherd) interjected as he entered the room to join in the conversation, “She kind of does as she pleases.”

“Just like a Hawkeye,” Clint mutterd under his breath.  “Well, which way to her room?”

“Why?” Tommy inquired somewhat snappishly.

“Well, I got a feeling she’s not gonna want to remember tonight.  In fact, I’m hoping she doesn’t remember anything she said or did after she left here so it’d be a whole lot easier if she just woke up here.”

“What’d she do?”  Billy asked.

“Trust me, it’d be better if she woke up here instead of at my place.”

“With your loving arms around her,” Tommy blurted out and Clint shot him a glare.  He had butted heads with Quicksilver all the time during their time together with the Avengers and this was starting to bring back unpleasant memories. 

“Sorry, I’m way wasted,” Tommy apologized.

“So where’s Katie’s room?”

“C’mon, like you don’t know,” Tommy uttered.

“No, smartass.  I never been here before.”

“You haven’t?  Why not?” Billy asked quizzically.

“…sigh…ain’t ever been invited.  Now which room?”

“The big purple one down the hallway,” Billy said with a point.

>>>\--------------------->

Clint helped Kate out of her stained clothes.  At least the clothes he felt comfortable enough taking off and tucked her in.  He scatters her effects around the room trying to craft a scene with the right mix of strewn about but neatly piled clothing like he thinks Drunk-Kate would do.  For his “plan” to work it has to look like she passed out into her own bed, but he can’t resist setting a glass of water on her night stand along with some aspirin.  He’s been down this road before and he sure doesn’t envy the hangover she’s going to have tomorrow.  “Rest well and dream of big, round bullseyes, Katie-Bird,” Clint whispers with his face inches away from her cheek.  He sweeps some strands of her hair back and kisses her lightly on the cheek.  The guys attempt to watch from the doorway nonchalantly and fail in a Stooge-like manner.

The second part of his plan is infinitely harder than arranging a scene; getting the story straight with her roommates.  He corrals them in the living room with a call of Avengers Assemble that leaves Billy grinning big as the moon.  They take their seats on the couch while he stands in front of the TV.

“Now, for this to work I need you guys to tell her what happened.”

“Oh yeah, what did happen, hunh?  Give us the details Hawk-Man.  You give her the shaft?  Eh?  Wink, wink, nudge, nudge,” Tommy kidded.

“First of all, shut up.  Second of all, don’t call me Hawk-Man.  Third of all, shut up again and I’ll tell you what happened.  Ready?  Nothing happened.  You all came home.  She never left.  I was never here.  Got that?”

They all nod.

“Say it back to me so I know you got it.  Nothing happened.  You all came home.  She never left.  I was never here.”

Together the impromptu class recites, “Nothing happened.  We came home.  She never left.  You were never here.”

“You, Witch Boy, what happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Little Quick, because…?”

“We came home.”

“Hulk-Kid, and she…?”

“She never left.”

“And I…?”

All together in unison, “Was never here.”

“Gold stars, Avengers.  Gold stars.  Now go get some sleep.”

“We aren’t getting a lecture?”  Billy questioned.

“From me?  Ha.  But if Katie-Bird figures out what happened from you guys I’ll drop a dime on you so fast Little Quick here couldn’t catch it with a head start.  I’m serious, I’ll rat you out to Captain America himself.”

>>>\--------------------->

Hawkeye walked himself home with his head tilted skyward, his eyes looking past the buildings, thinking this could work.  Yeah, it was a little like lying to her which he swore he’d never do.  He’d just have to take comfort in the fact that he wasn’t doing the actual lying.  It was her easily influenced teammates.  He’d enlisted three impressionable fanboys to lie to her for him.  Three semi-conscious, half-drunk superhero geeks.  His head fell and his faith in this plan began to falter.

He slowly shook his head.  “I’m so screwed,” he sighed aloud to the near-empty streets of New York.  He puts his fingertips to his mouth and remembers the feeling of Kate’s lips.  He could try the rest of his life to forget the feeling but knows he won’t.  He won’t forget and he won’t even try.  “You’re such a girl, Barton,” he said and smiles.

As he walks home he replays the scene at his apartment.  He starts with the kiss and how unexpectedly amazing that felt.  And the fact that she wants to sleep with him and how unfortunately amazing that felt.  And then what she said about another attack at the park.  That was moment that he couldn’t get past.  Like a bright red bookmark.  He figured the other stuff didn’t count, but, **_that part_** , that was the part that would still be there when she was sober.  He looks around and finds he’s already changed direction and has taken a detour, the long way through the park, on his way home.

>>>\--------------------->

As it turned out he had drilled the boys too well.  When Kate wandered out of bed later that afternoon she had a vague, but unmistakable sense that something was off. 

“Hey there Katie-Bird,” Tommy spouted to a very groggy Kate.

“Ugh, what happened last night?” she asked while pouring some orange juice, forgetting for a moment that the only person that calls her Katie-Bird – that got away with any kind of stupid nickname – was Clint.

“Nothing happened,” Hulking replied convincingly enough.

“We came home,” Wiccan said a little stiffly, but not so much that it would raise suspicion.

“You never left,” Speed said as if on cue.

This 3-act play was sounding a little too rehearsed.  Now Kate knew something was up.  She narrowed her bloodshot eyes and asked, only just now hearing the nickname, “Was Clint here?”

“He was never here,” the boys replied together in stereo like the chorus of a song.

>>>\--------------------->

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank Mark Gruenwald, Kurt Busiek, Fabian Nicieza, and Jim McCann for writing fiction so good that I never felt the need to write fiction. Should any of you happen upon this, I tip my hat to you good sirs.
> 
> And I’d like to thank Matt Fraction (and general growing-older orneriness) for throwing all of that out and making fiction writing look so easy that I felt compelled to try and cover it up with my own. Should you happen upon this, I wag my finger to you good sir.
> 
> Some of this done as a direct result of Mr. Fraction writing Hawkeye like Clint Barton is completely incompetent. So incompetent that I have to bite back on my bile lest it I rant for a page and a half.
> 
> While I hope that I have done well (and know that I have done my own head-canon proud), I know that I will not sway others who hold Mr. Fraction’s work in such high regard.


End file.
